


You're Gonna Pay for This

by Eleven_11



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Funny, I mean I think it's funny, It's Ridiculous, M/M, florist!harry, flower child!harry, slight sexual content, teacher!Louis, they're ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 02:38:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleven_11/pseuds/Eleven_11
Summary: “'NO!”Three sets of hands moved to grab Harry, and he was so startled that he jumped into the air from his nearly seated position on their new couch, butt just inches away from the pristine leather.He scanned the faces of the four boys in front of him, all colored with a mixture of shock, incredulity, and embarrassment. Harry was at a loss.“Why?” he sighed. "---Or, Louis and Harry get something new, and the boys refuse to break it in. Chaos and ridiculousness ensue.





	You're Gonna Pay for This

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> The title's from Harry's live version of "Kiwi".
> 
> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "Unused". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/unused/works), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works) or find the masterpost for this year’s challenge here.

“It’s beautiful,” Niall breathed, eyes wide.

“Stunning, mate,” Liam joined in, clapping Louis on the shoulder. “Completely unused?”

“Completely unused,” Louis confirmed.

“Really, really nice,” Zayn added, running his hand across its surface. “No scratches or anything.”

“Looks firm too,” Niall added. Louis nodded his head in validation, knowing that it was firm, or at least it had been.

“And the color!” Liam gushed. “What more can a man want?”

“I mean, a skirt would be nice,” Louis mused, “but we can get that later.” All three boys nodded in agreement, murmuring lowly about fabric types and cuts.

Just then, Louis heard the front door open, and another voice called from the foyer, this one rougher and lower, but still sweet and slow like honey.

“Lou!” it called and Louis panicked. This was not a normal scene. How was he going to explain this? “The boys’ cars are in the drive. Not that I’m not happy to see them or anything, but I didn’t know we—” His voice cut off, and Louis turned around to find him in the doorframe of the living room. His eyebrows scrunched as his mouth opened and his head cocked to the left. “..what…is..wha—”

“Harry, it’s so nice mate!” Niall exclaimed, bounding over to him.

“Thanks, Nialler,” Harry replied cautiously. “But why are you all just," he paused, " _staring_ at it? Are we doing some sort of cult ritual first?” He joked, stepping further into the room.

“No, man, it’s just really nice, ya know?” Zayn asked. “Feels almost wrong to use it…like we might ruin it.”

“Zayn.” Harry deadpanned. “It’s a fucking _couch_ ,” he said, disbelief clear in his voice. “What else are we supposed to do with it?” He looked at each of the boys’ faces individually until he landed on Louis’. His cheeks were tinged a light pink, like he knew that three boys standing in the living room, staring at a couch, was ridiculous behavior. Because it was. He shrugged at Harry.

“It’s just,” he started, ever stubborn and defensive, “nice. We haven’t had something this new in forever.”

Harry had to admit he had a point. Between Louis’ teacher’s salary and his own income from his flower shop, they weren’t necessarily struggling, but they didn’t usually get to buy things brand new. They’d gotten all of their other furnature as gifts when they moved in together nearly four years earlier, so he supposed something new was, well, news.

Harry moved over to the three-cushioned couch, running his hand down the length of the maroon leather of the armrest. He nodded his head in agreement.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, moving in front of the cushions, “but it’s still, you know, made to be sat in—”

“NO!”

Three sets of hands moved to grab Harry, and he was so startled that he jumped into the air from his nearly seated position on their new couch, butt just inches away from the pristine leather.

He scanned the faces of the four boys in front of him, all colored with a mixture of shock, incredulity, and embarrassment. Harry was at a loss.

“Why?” he sighed.

Zayn shrugged. “We decided that if we sit on it, it won’t be new anymore.”

“You all do know that couches are literally made to be sat on,” Harry asked. “There’s no reason to buy a couch, if you don’t sit on it.”

They were looking at him with uneasiness and even a little bit of reproach from Niall. He locked eyes with Louis, sending him a silent plea to end whatever madness this was, but Louis own eyes were so full of genuine worry about the stupid couch that he knew he was in trouble. He couldn’t ever hold up to one of Louis’ pleading stares.

“But, Haz...” Louis started, barely jutting his bottom lip out, and Harry knew he’d lost.

Sighing, he conceded. “Okay,” he said, one handing coming up to card through his hair and the other reaching out to wind around Louis’ waist. He gave an all-too-pleased nod to Harry, and snuggled himself into his side. Harry loved an idiot. A very cute, mischievous, little pixie of an idiot.

But then Louis looked up at him, with eyes bright and dancing like the stars that watched over him at night, and Harry couldn’t find the will to regret anything.

 

A few weeks later, however, he found it.

It had been exactly 24 days, and they still had not used the couch. They ate takeaway, watched TV, played video games, and read books on the floor in front of it, which was now littered with blankets and pillows. Harry’s mom asked him why he was on the floor while he was facetiming her one day, and he had to explain that they were “preserving its newness.” He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so disappointed and confused.

The real problem, however, wasn’t any of the boys or their families, but the other people that came into their home who weren’t familiar with their particular brand of crazy. Like Louis’ boss.

Harry wasn’t a huge fan of Louis’ boss, and he was sure he would have loved messing with him if Louis’ possible promotion weren’t on the line.

“Lou, baby,” Harry began, “should we maybe,” he made a vague motion toward the new couch. “You know, for your boss?”

Louis actually considered it, which Harry counted as a win, before scrunching up his face. “We could just sit at the kitchen table don’t you think?” They both glanced at the kitchen table which was currently covered in paperwork and coffee cups from both of them. “We’ll have to clean it anyway, right?” He looked at Harry with big, pleading eyes, and Harry wondered how his life came to this. He sighed. They both knew that hosting someone at the kitchen table also meant scrubbing any stickiness from it, cleaning the floors, and tidying the kitchen itself. But Louis was looking at him like this actually mattered to him, and they didn’t call Harry a softie for no reason.

“Yeah,” he relented, “if we start now, we should have enough time.”

Louis’ eyes brightened and crinkled at the edges. He squealed, actually _squealed_ , and threw himself at Harry, planting a giddy kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Hazza!”

“No need to thank me Lou, this is your house too,” Harry replied.

Louis busted out laughing and Harry looked at him with his eyebrows scrunched.

“Good one, Hazza,” Louis giggled, “but we both know who keeps house ‘round here.”

Harry shrugged. He had a point.

 

Three hours later, they were nearly done with cleaning the kitchen. Harry’s hair was tied back in a bun, and Louis’ was being held back by a headband. They were both sweating from all the scrubbing, fingers starting to prune from all the water. Harry was hunting around their garden outside for some flowers to put on the table, and Louis was trying to make everything look a little lived-in so it wouldn’t seem like they just spent three hours cleaning. Harry came back in with minoan lace flowers and sweet pea blossoms, along with some cornflowers that had found their way into the tie of his bun. He had dirt on his clothes and forearms, but he looked much more at peace than he had a few minutes ago. Harry loved flowers, and Louis liked them because they made Harry happy. And he loved Harry.

Louis walked over to him. “Those look lovely, babe,” he said. “Wanna use the vase my gran gave me?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Yes, that would amazing with these.” There were even more crinkles around his eyes now, and Louis thought he looked stunning. “I’ll finish it up while you go shower, yeah?”

Louis looked around the room and nodded. He didn’t want wet hair for this meeting, and Harry was far more help in the finishing department than he was.

In another hour, both Harry and Louis were washed and dressed, the flowers were in Louis’ gran’s old ceramic vase with a fresh pink ribbon around its mouth, and there was a kettle on for tea. This was supposed to be a “quick meeting,” but neither really knew what to expect. Louis’ school was in the process of reviving their drama program and were looking for a new Director of the Theater Department. He really wanted the job.

“Lou,” Harry said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “try to calm down, love. It’ll be fine, yeah? You’re perfect for the job and everyone knows it. Just breathe and focus.”

Louis stopped bouncing on his toes and focused on getting even breaths in and out. They both knew he was prone to hyperactivity and distractedness when he got too nervous or excited. He was currently both of those things.

They heard a car pulling into their driveway and then footsteps coming up the stairs. Louis shot Harry a panicked glance, and Harry rubbed some slow circles on his back, reminding Louis to keep his cool. Louis lamented the fact that he probably didn’t have any cool to begin with. 

There was a knock at the door and they both fumbled forward, not having discussed who would get the door.

Usually Harry, being the closest thing they had to a homemaker, would get the door, which suited Louis just fine. But this time it felt like maybe Louis should do it. Harry let him go ahead with a quick kiss on the cheek, and he pulled the door open.

“Simon!” Louis greeted, “great to have you here!” Louis knew that both he and Harry would rather host a hoard of rabid squirrels, but he figured being polite was to his favor right now. Plus he was going for the theater position, so it only seemed right to do a bit of acting. “Come in, please.”

“Thank you, Louis, my boy,” Simon said with a smile as he moved inside. He always called Louis “my boy” and it made both of them slightly uncomfortable. It also made Harry even more territorial, causing him to look like he might confront Simon at any second, which Louis would find funny if it wasn’t his boss.

Simon was also not one to wait to be shown around. He hung his jacket on a hook and headed for the living room.

Now, Harry knew this was the natural thing to do for a little in-house meeting, but they hadn’t expected him to go there with such determination.

Louis and Harry both momentarily panicked and hurried after him, trying to do something that wasn’t just calling out to him to stop. They were making frantic gestures at one another behind Simon’s back, trying to figure out what to do. Harry pushed Louis forward with a looked that definitely said, _he’s_ your _boss_ , and Louis answered with a very exaggerated shrugging and lifting of his shoulders that answered, _but what the fuck am I supposed to do_?!

When they stumbled into the living room, Simon had already made it to the front of the couch and was a quarter of the way to sitting on it. Harry reached forward slightly, as if he could stop Simon by sheer force of will, a pained expression on his face.

“Simon!” Louis' voice burst from his mouth, a little more panicked than he would have liked.

Simon stopped in his squatted position and looked at him with his eyebrows raised.

“We were, um,” Louis continued. He cut his glance over to Harry, his pleading eyes meeting Harry’s panicked ones. Harry didn’t know what to do either, but he did know the love of his life was on the verge of turmoil and he needed to do something.

“We were,” Harry continued for him, “um. We have some tea in the kitchen!” He was fairly proud that he got that much out, but the silence was definitely waiting for him to say more. “And we, um. Don’t--” _sit on the couch_ , his mind finished for him, but he knew he couldn’t reveal just how ridiculous they were in front of Louis’ boss. He floundered for half a beat, but Louis, his wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, stunning Louis came to his rescue.

“We don’t eat or drink in the living room,” Louis finished. He willed himself to not glance over at the coasters and the empty glass just a few feet over, and he could hope Harry was doing the same.

“Oh,” Simon replied, “that’s alright.” He stood up fully and made his way just as purposefully into the kitchen. Harry slumped against the wall in relief as Louis scurried after Simon. Harry brought up a hand to pinch at his nose, head leaning back against the wall. The only thing running in his head was a steady stream of _why?_ ’s. He counted to five, then pushed himself off the wall to join his boyfriend in the kitchen.

 

Despite all of that, Louis found out he actually got the job a month later. He came home one night, slamming the door open.

“Harry! Hazza! Haz! HarryHarryHarry!” he gasped out.

Harry had been alarmed when he heard the door bang open, but upon hearing Louis call out his alarm turned to fear. He ran from where he was preparing dinner to the foyer to intercept a running Louis.

“Lou, are you okay, are you hurt, what’s--” his voice was muffled as Louis started to kiss him.

“I got the job,” Louis smiled against his lips.

Harry pushed him back, gripping his shoulders, and beaming with the force of ten thousand golden lilies. His mouth was hanging open, and he couldn’t get words to come out.

“I got the job,” Louis squealed again.

“You got the job,” Harry repeated. “YOU GOT THE JOB!” he screamed as he came to his senses. Lifting Louis into the air and pulling him close, Harry kissed him and made his way into the living room. “I knew you would,” Harry said, just inches from Louis face. “I knew it! You’re so perfect for the job, baby, he would have been an idiot if he hadn’t picked you,” Louis leaned in for another kiss. “I’m so proud of you, Boo.”

Louis could feel the force of Harry’s love. It was positively shooting out at him, like a small hurricane of lavender-scented affection swirling around them. Harry was a force of nature, and he looked at Louis like he was the sun that gave him life.

“Thank you,” Louis replied through his smile. Harry was crossing into the living room, still holding Louis koala style, and kissed him again, this time deeper. The excitement and joy and general giddiness surrounding them had them both equally worked up, especially with all the kissing. Louis moved his hands up to Harry’s hair and tugged at the loose curls. It was times like these that made Louis thankful for all the working out Harry did. He bit Louis’ lip in response as they both started kissing with renewed purpose.

“Do you wanna--” Harry began to ask.

“Yes, yeah, whatever it is, yes,” Louis replied.

A grin took over Harry’s face as he walked them over to the edge of the couch, and began to lower Louis toward it.

Louis realized what Harry was doing and immediately latched on harder, lifting himself up.

“Harry!” he exclaimed. When he looked at Harry’s face there was mirth and mischief written all over it. “Don’t you dare!” he continued.

Harry’s smile grew into something sly as he dragged his lower lip below his teeth. His eyes were sparkling. Louis’ breath hitched.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Harry teased. His eyes were darker and his muscles tense. He was kissing Louis again, and Louis’ mind was going to jelly from all of it.

“We are not,” Louis struggled to get out between kisses, “We are _not_ making out as the first thing we do on this couch.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, still hovering Louis above the cushions.

“Because,” Louis replied. Harry laughed at that, sweet as honey with something darker under it.

“Wow, Lou,” he said, “compelling arguments, babe, really.”

“Oh shut up,” Louis replied and kissed him again. “Because I say so,” he cocked an eyebrow, “and because I won’t let you touch me while we do it if you do.” Harry opened his mouth in a silent gasp.

“You wouldn’t,” he tried to call Louis’ bluff.

“Oh, you know I would,” Louis shot back, challenge evident all over his face.

“And what if I don’t care?”

“You do.”

Louis licked his lips while a grin formed on his face. He could feel the triumph sinking into his bones along with the incessant chant of _HarryHarryHarryHarry_.

Harry knew he was right though, and he carefully weighed the pros and cons in his head. He also really needed to hurry or he might explode from the tension. Louis was looking a little too smug and pleased with himself, and even though Harry thought it was extremely hot, he needed to do something about it.

Louis just barely caught the flicker of triumph in Harry’s eyes and tried to hold on tighter before Harry was throwing Louis downward on the couch and sprinting away.

Louis hit the still-new couch and let out a sound somewhere between a squeal and a screech.

“Harry!” he shouted after Harry’s fleeing form as he bolted up from the couch and ran after him.

Harry made it to their bed before Louis and was sitting on it, panting, when Louis barreled through the door frame. He was in a fit of giggles and Louis was holding back laughter of his own.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Styles!” Louis promised.

Harry could barely get anything out between silent giggles. “Oh,” he started, “I know.” But he couldn’t be bothered in the slightest. Louis was walking to the bed painfully slowly, eyes fixed on Harry. He ripped his shirt over his head, but backed off when Harry made to reach for him.

“Oh no, nu-uh,” Louis warned. Harry’s mouth opened and he met Louis’ eyes, both sets almost black with want. “You’re not just going to get away with that.” He took his trousers off next, watching Harry through his eyelashes the whole time.

“Lou,” Harry whined.

“You did this to yourself, Hazza. There’s really nothing--”

Harry lunged for him faster than Louis could react and grabbed him by the waist, pulling him into bed. They were both laughing again, Louis straddled over Harry. His curls were fanned out around his head like a field of the most beautiful flowers, and his eyes were as bright and green as the countryside on a clear day.

“At least do it in the bed, Boo,” Harry said, his lips bright red from kissing.

Louis leaned down to dye them an even deeper shade of crimson. “I suppose that’s fine,” he replied. Because, really, who was he to deny his favorite boy.

“You know,” he continued, kissing Harry between phrases. His eyes sparkled again, something mischievous mixed in with the blue, “I’ve been sitting on that couch every morning with my tea.”

Harry’s body screech to a halt. He looked up at Louis and sat up.

“You what?” Harry began, and Louis scurried off the bed, running back out into the house, his cackle training after him.

Harry flopped back onto the bed, and he couldn’t help the smile that came onto his face and the laugh that escaped him. He could still hear Louis laughing as he tore through the house in only his underpants, no doubt spreading chaos everywhere.

“Lou!” Harry yelled as he got up and started running after him, “you are _so_ going to pay for _all_ of this!” he called after his wonderful, insufferable, beautiful boy. Harry raced through the house as well, struggling from the force of his own laughing, and he couldn’t help but think that this right here was what he wanted for his forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please let me know! My tumblr can be found [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hereforhappylarry).


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